The War of the Dead: The Rise of the Firebreather
by Shadethenightfury
Summary: Six months after the battle at Mount Washington, the group is scattered across the country. They begin to be drawn together once again, as a mysterious transmission directs them all to the city of Chicago.
1. Prologue

**The War of the Dead**

 **Book Two: The Rise of the Firebreather**

 **Prologue**

 **Somewhere in Nebraska, United States**

The man was strapped tightly into the chair. Where his armor had been only an hour before was now only a thin layer of rags. The ropes dug into his arms, legs and stomach. They weren't tight enough to cut -not yet- but they definitely hurt.

He was in a pitch black room, with the only light he could see coming through a doorframe directly in front of him. He wanted to scream for help, but he couldn't; his mouth was taped shut.

He had no idea where he was. His mind went back to how it all happened; he and his squad had been marching through the forest when he had lagged behind. As he wandered through the woods, hoping to find them again, he had been jumped, beaten down, bound, gagged and blindfolded. Fast forward through a short trip, and here he was

Even when his blindfold had been removed, he hadn't been able to get a good look at his attackers, as they had been wearing gas masks. He had tried to listen in on their conversations, but they were silent for almost the entire trip. When they did speak, it was in low, hushed whispers that he couldn't make out.

His mind reached the present again, and longed for something to happen. To him, even death wasn't as bad as this wait. Finally, something did happen.

The door opened and a ray of light fell onto his eyes, temporarily blinding him. A slim shadow entered the room. As he blinked away the pain from his eyes, he adjusted to the light, and got a better look at this newcomer. They were dressed entirely in baggy black clothes, and on their head was a Phoenix helmet- _his_ Phoenix helmet, he noticed with a start. He had carved his initials, JG, into the side to mark it.

The person moved into the shadows and reappeared with a stool that they dragged with a quick, smooth motion to a spot two feet in front of the prisoner, and sat down to face him. They reached their hand forward and got a grip on the tape holding his mouth shut and slowly tore it off. The pain was fierce, as the tape tore at his pale skin and the thick, brown hairs of his small mustache, but did his best to ignore it.

"Hello there," his captor finally said. From the sound of the voice, he could tell she was a woman. "Having fun?"

"What the fuck do you want from me?" he asked.

Her fist came flying out of nowhere and struck him hard in the side of his face. "Ow…" he said. "Bitch." The remark earned him another blow.

"You got anymore insults you'd like to throw at me?" she asked.

He didn't really feel like getting hit again, so he kept his mouth shut.

"Good," she said. "Now, I have some questions for you."

"Whatever it is, I'm not going to answer," said the man.

"Oh, you will," said the woman. "One way or another, you will. I'll make this very simple for you. Either you tell us what we want to know -willingly- or we make you beg for mercy. Your choice."

The man said nothing.

"First question," said the woman. "Who's in charge of your organization now?"

"Your mother," said the man. "I know because I fuck her every night. She whispers secrets plans in my ear while I go down on her."

"Oh, so you're a funny man, are you?" his captor asked. "That's very funny." In a single motion, her fist connected with his chin, and he saw stars in his vision. "How about you tell me who's _really_ in charge."

"You… You talk like you expect me to know."

"You're in the army, aren't you?"

"Yeah. They don't tell us jack."

"I don't believe you."

"Well that's too fucking bad, because it's- ow! Fuck!" His sentence had been interrupted by her fist once again.

"Where is your garrison heading?" she asked.

"Like I'm gonna tell you that."

Another blow.

"Isn't your fist getting tired?"

"You'd like that, wouldn't you?"

"Yes, I would, actually."

"What are you planning? What is your army up to?"

"Again; they don't tell us jack."

She roared in frustration. "If you do _not_ start talking, you're going to wish you were dead," she warned him.

The man laughed. "Try me."

That did it. She rose from her seat and punched him again, this time harder than ever before.

"Are you done?" he asked, spitting out a glob of blood.

"That depends," said the woman. "Are you ready to cooperate?"

"No," he said. "Just give up, lady. You can't break me!"

She slowly sat back onto the stool. She was silent for a few moments, before she said, "Maybe you're right. I can't break you. But I know someone who can."

Behind her, in the light leaking in through the open door, a dark shape began to form from nothing. For the first time throughout this entire experience, the prisoner felt true fear. It cut deep into his soul and soiled his very being. As the shape grew, it seemed to become more solid, until a dark, malicious creature stood where seconds before had been nothing.

The man began to shake in terror as the figure's two evil red eyes opened and stared at him. "Wh-what is that… thing?" he asked, terror dripping from his voice.

"Your new interrogator," said the woman. She stood up and walked around the creature, towards the door.

"No!" the man pleaded, pushing against his restraints desperately in an attempt to escape. "No, don't leave me here! Please! I'll tell you whatever you want! _Just let me go!"_

"It's too late for that," said the woman as she left the room. "You should have told me what I wanted to know. Have fun."

"NO!" the man screamed.

The door slammed shut, plunging him into darkness.

The house was in ruins. Furniture was overturned, and bodies lay across the floor. The walls were covered with bullet holes, and splinters of wood had fallen off. Dust and rubble were everywhere, and small fires spotted the wreckage

In the front of the house, a teenage girl with snow white hair soiled by dirt and grime was dragging the unconscious body of another girl her age to the front door. She was weak, and just barely able to accomplish this task.

As she opened the door, an armored car drove out of sight. She tried to walk down the front steps of the house, but tripped and sprawled forward onto the pavement of the sidewalk. Her arms and knees started to bleed. Her friend's body tumbled beside her and laid still.

Her arms trembling with the effort, she reached into her pocket and pulled out the transceiver she had retrieved when trouble had first reared its head. She held it up to her face and pressed a button on the side.

"Chicago…" she said weakly. Then her eyes closed and her head fell limply to the ground.


	2. Chapter One: Misael

**Part One:**

 **The Phoenix**

 **Chapter One:**

 **Misael**

 **Los Angeles, California**

"Come on, where are you…?"

Matt had been in the lab for a few hours now, searching through every computer he could find for the information he needed. The lab's wireless network was down, so he couldn't access any files through the database; he had to check every individual computer. This was the fortieth computer he'd searched, and his patience was wearing thin. With a few keyboard strokes, he typed his query into the computer search bar and pressed enter.

 _Searching…_

Matt sighed, looked at Shade, his best friend, and rolled his eyes, putting his hands in his black athletic shorts in the process. The black dragon was impatient as well. He despised labs, and even though this one was empty, being inside it for this long caused him anxiety.

Matt gave the Night Fury a pat on the shoulder and said, "Just hang in there. We'll find this soon.

 _No results._

"Damn it!" he yelled, slamming his fist on the desk. He turned around and faced his other friend, who was on the other side of the room. "Elizabeth, tell me you've found something."

The Scrafty shook her head.

Matt groaned in frustration. "Alright," he said. "Two more, and then we'll call it a day."

Two months before, Sam had sent them on a special mission. Ever since the activation of the Machine six months ago, he had been searching for an explanation as to why they were still alive, despite the foreign blood that had been injected into their bodies as a cruel attempt at execution. They had survived the ordeal, but the blood was somehow still in their systems. His search had led him here, to the California laboratory. Since he had some other work he was doing, he couldn't come himself, so he had sent the three of them.

Matt got another computer up and running, and ran another search. He was losing hope that they would even find it that day.

 _Results found._

"Yes!" he exclaimed. "I found it!" A list of results containing multiple files on the subject appeared. He opened the first on the list and began to read it.

It discussed a series of experiments the lab had conducted relating to blood. During the days before the apocalypse, one team was hoping to discover a way to transfer blood of different types- and maybe even species- in a way that would prevent negative consequences. Matt needed to know if they had succeeded.

He read through the article. Frowning at the information presented to him, he exited out of it and read through another one, only to find the same verdict. After reading through three more, he could no longer deny it.

"That's weird…" he said. "They never found what they were looking for. All bodies tested upon refused foreign blood. Some even died when there was too much of it."

It didn't make any sense to him. Martinez had injected him and Sam with dragon blood, as well as a serum that would prevent their body from rejecting it. In theory, the blood would multiply until there was so much that by the time the serum wore off, their bodies would destroy themselves in their attempts to exterminate the outside contaminants.

Matt wanted to think that the serum had been defective, or that maybe Corvus had been lying, but he knew that wasn't true. Sam had taken blood samples from each of them, and when he analyzed them, he discovered a small concentration of dragon blood in their veins, and it was slowly yet steadily increasing.

 _So if there's nothing that could be done… Why are we still alive?_

Matt had his theories. When the Machine had gone off, he had felt something inside himself; a burning sensation, like he was being roasted alive from the inside. He had thought it was the effects of the Machine taking its toll on the dragon DNA in his blood, but now, he wasn't so sure…

Not for the first time, he wondered if it had done something else.

He sighed, and shut down the computers. Then, he stood up and smoothed out his shirt; a black _Master of Puppets_ t-shirt. Then, he slung his AK-47 and backpack over his shoulder.

"Alright guys," he said. "Let's get out of here."

They took a quick detour to the power room, where they turned off the backup generators that they had set up to power the computers. Then, they headed back to the outside world.

When they emerged from the laboratory, they found themselves in an abandoned factory that had been deserted long before Z-Day. The whole building had an untrustworthy aura about it, and Matt wanted to leave as soon as possible.

As they walked into the main hall, their footsteps echoed loudly, sending shivers down Matt's spine. It was huge, empty and dark, and none of them liked it one bit.

When they finally emerged into the outside light, Matt sighed in relief. "Oh thank God we're out of there." Next to him, Shade stretched out his wings happily.

It was much dimmer outside than it had been when they had entered the building. It seemed that they had lost track of time and had allowed themselves to remain in the lab until evening.

"Damn it," said Matt. "We still need to get food, and there was that other errand I wanted to run…" He thought, and then asked, "Shade, could you go hunting for us? I want to find something about _How to Train Your Dragon 2_ before it gets dark. The DreamWorks headquarters must be somewhere around here." Night was when the world was most dangerous. The zombies were most active then, and staying out after dark was one of the dumbest things you could do.

Shade nodded. "We'll meet you back at the house as soon as we're done," Matt said. "Good luck."

As the dragon flew off, he and Elizabeth began to make their way through the city. As far as they could see, the streets were empty and desolated. Rubble and ruined cars were strewn everywhere, and bones- some human, some not- were scattered across the road, but there were no sign of zombies.

Yet.

As they navigated the empty streets, Matt wondered anxiously if they would make it before night time. It was slowly but steadily getting darker out, and they were still a ways from their goal.

"This was a stupid idea," said Matt. "That's it; I'm not going to risk our lives for movie footage, no matter how much I want it. It's not worth it. Let's get back home."

Elizabeth nodded in agreement, and they were about to turn around when they heard a gunshot echo in the distance. Matt and Elizabeth stared in the direction of the sound, and heard a shout accompany it.

"Someone needs help," said Matt.

Elizabeth nodded, and they took off running.

The two of them ran as fast as they could to the source of the commotion. As they turned onto the street, they saw a group of zombies moving away from them. Another gunshot blasted through the air, and one of the undead fell.

Matt and Elizabeth drew combat knives from their belts and ran forward. When they reached the horde, they began hacking and slashing at them. Blood ran over their fingers and splashed onto the ground around them. Finally, before the zombies even had a chance to react, they were all dead.

But it wasn't over yet. Down the street, another wave of zombies were running towards a teenager that looked just a few years younger than Matt. He pulled his trigger again, and another zombie fell.

More were coming, and they were outnumbered. "Come on!" Matt yelled. Not needing to be told twice, the boy ran towards them.

They sprinted as fast as they could down the street. When they had made some ground, Matt looked over his shoulder and saw the zombies sprinting after them. The undead were gaining on them, and moving faster than they were. Matt drew his pistol and shot at them. He managed to hit two in the head before he had to reload.

He felt Elizabeth tugging his shoulder, and turned to her. "What?" he asked. The Pokémon gestured towards the buildings to their right. Matt could tell what she was thinking. "Right," he agreed. He turned to their new companion. "Hey!" he yelled. "Follow us!"

The teenager turned to them, and hesitated for a moment before relenting. He ran after them as they made for the front door. Matt reached it first and opened the door, then held it open for Elizabeth and the newcomer. When they were through, he slammed it shut and locked it.

Matt turned to the teen. Now that he had a better look at him, he saw that he was about as tall as he was, with tan skin and short black hair. He also sported a black mustache and a slight beard. A pair of sunglasses covered his eyes, and he was wearing a red t-shirt and black khaki pants.

"You," he said. "What's your name?"

"M-Misael…" he said nervously.

"Misael. Nice to meet you. I'm Matt, and this is Elizabeth. No time to talk now. We're not out of this yet," he said. He looked around the room and saw that they had entered a lobby of sorts. There were couches, chairs, desks, tables, and other furniture scattered about the place. On either side of the door was a line of windows stretching to the end of the room. "We can't be in the same room as those windows. We're sitting ducks if we stay here."

No sooner did the words escape his mouth than the glass next to them shattered. A zombie jumped through, carrying part of a car bumper in his arm. It swung the object at Elizabeth like a club. She ducked under the swing so that it barely missed her head, and with a swift movement, she punched it in the gut, and as it doubled over she buried her knife in its head.

"Look out!" Misael yelled. More zombies were pouring through the gap in the window. Elizabeth sheathed her knife and drew her pistol, and all three of them began firing on the horde.

"We need to get to a stairwell or an elevator shaft or something!" Matt yelled.

They ran across the room and found an archway leading into a long hallway. As they entered it, they turned back and fired more shots at the zombies pursuing them. When they reached the end of the hallway they turned to the right, and saw an elevator at the end.

"You two go on!" Matt yelled. "Get that door open! I'll hold them back!" He pulled out his AK-47 and aimed it at the zombies who were almost halfway down the hall. "Go!"

His companions rushed ahead while he fired at the advancing onslaught. It was bigger than it had been before; more zombies must have joined from outside.

Misael and Elizabeth reached the elevator and stopped. "What are we going to do?" asked the teen. Without answering, Elizabeth gripped the crack between the two doors and began to pull outwards. The teen watched, his mouth gaping with amazement, until the Scrafty motioned for him to help.

Misael took a few steps forward and positioned his hands in between the two doors. With their combined strength, they managed to force it open.

"We've got it!" Misael yelled to Matt.

"Alright!" Matt yelled back. He paused to reload his gun, and in doing so allowed the zombies to get much too close. One almost grabbed him before he was able to shoot back. He ducked away, however, and once he was done reloading he shot all of those closest to him before he turned and sprinted down the hallway towards the elevator.

When he reached them, he turned to see the zombies already in pursuit. "Open the hatch in the elevator's ceiling!" he commanded. Misael, who was taller than Elizabeth, found it and managed to push it open.

Matt took a few more shots at the oncoming horde and then turned and entered the elevator. "You first," he said to Misael. He crouched down and allowed the teen to use him as a stepping stool. Misael stepped onto his back, grabbed the roof of the elevator and pulled himself up.

"Good!" Matt yelled. "Now help Elizabeth up!"

As he turned to shoot more zombies, the Scrafty stretched her hands upward and Misael reached down to grab them. With an effort, he pulled her up until she could grab the roof. From there, she pulled herself up.

"Alright, now help me!" he yelled. He stood under the hatch and grabbed Misael's hand with his right hand and Elizabeth's with his left. The two of them hoisted him up until he himself had a good grip, and then let him go. He gripped a bar running across the top of the roof and pulled himself up.

The first of the zombies arrived in the elevator beneath them. One of them jumped up, and was able to grab onto the roof. As it pulled itself up, Matt shot it in the head and it fell back down. Elizabeth slammed the hatch shut behind it.

"Hold that down," Matt directed as the zombies started to pound and push on it from beneath. Elizabeth pushed back with her arms and held it in place.

Matt now looked around the elevator shaft. It went up ten stories to the top, where a pulley system held the four elevator cables in place. As far as he could see, there was nothing that would help them escape their situation.

"Up there!" Misael said softly, pointing up. Matt followed his finger and saw a beam of light shining into the shaft through a pair of elevator doors that were held open. "Can we get up there?"

"I don't know… Can you climb well?"

"N-not walls like this… Or cables."

"Then how can we?" asked Matt. "Unless… Wait a minute."

He grabbed one of the thick metal cables that connected the elevator to the pulley system. "If we can hold onto this and somehow detach it from the elevator, we might be able to ride it up there. It'd be risky, though… What do you two think?"

Elizabeth looked up and nodded. _Try it._

"A-are you sure there's no other way?" asked Misael.

"Well, we could try opening that door," said Matt, pointing to the elevator door that was almost level with where they were standing. "But we wouldn't have time to close it again; it would just be prolonging the chase. It's either up or down. Take your pick."

Misael looked torn. After a moment of consideration, he said, "Fine. Let's get this over with."

Matt nodded and gripped the metal cable. "Elizabeth, can you take the second cable?" he asked. "We need someone to hold back the zombies."

Elizabeth nodded again.

"Alright, hold on," said Matt. Misael gripped the cable with both of his hands, and braced himself. Matt drew his pistol and aimed it at the clutch holding the cable in place and started a count-down.

"Three… Two… One!"

He fired twice before the cable snapped free. The elevator lurched beneath Elizabeth and tilted to the side, almost throwing her off balance. The cable jerked upwards, and they almost lost their grip, but were just able to keep a hold on it.

They rose up, but after a single story they slowed to a halt. Their combined weight had counteracted the pull of the elevator.

"Elizabeth!" Matt yelled. "Come on! We need you!"

Elizabeth looked up at them and understood what she needed to do. She drew her pistol and quickly jumped off of the hatch. She grabbed one of the remaining cables as quickly as she could, and shot the latch just as the zombies were emerging from the compartment.

The elevator gave another lurch- only this time it fell. The building had a number of sublevels, and the elevator shaft extended to all of them. The compartment fell, and the three of them were yanked up.

They flew upwards at frightening speeds, and before they knew it, they had reached the open elevator doors. "Now!" Matt yelled. The two of them jumped, and just barely made it through the opening. Misael sailed right through it, but Matt wasn't so lucky. He smacked his back against the top and hit the ground roughly.

"Aw fuck…" he groaned.

A split second later, Elizabeth jumped for the opening. She wasn't so lucky either. Half of her body made it onto the floor, but her legs dangled and pulled her down. She slipped, and tried desperately to get a grip, but she couldn't. She fell. Her hands flailed in the air desperately, and Misael managed to catch one of them. She almost pulled him in with her, but he was just able to hold on.

"I've got you," he said. He pulled as hard as he could, and she was eventually able to get a grip on the floor. She was able to pull herself up, and then collapsed on the floor, gasping for breath.

But their relief didn't last. Several loud moans echoed up the shaft, and as they looked back they saw that the zombies were climbing up the sides of the wall.

"God damn it!" Matt cursed. "Will they never give up?"

The three of them hurriedly gripped the doors of the elevator- Elizabeth on the right, and Matt and Misael on the left. Together, they were able to pry them out into the open. It wasn't long before they closed them, and the zombies were trapped in the shaft.

Matt sank to his knees and leaned against the door, sighing in relief. Next to him, he heard Misael and Elizabeth doing the same.

"I… I can't believe it… They're so… strong now," said Misael.

"Yeah," said Matt. "We're not out of trouble yet, though. We've delayed them, but sooner or later, they're going to find their way up here. We need to find a room, fortify it, and hold up for the night."

He closed his eyes in exasperation as he realized that they wouldn't be able to meet back up with Shade. The dragon would be worried. But it couldn't be helped.

"Come on," he said. He stood up and walked down the hallway.

They found a room as quickly as they could. It was a large office with two windows on the far side, a desk in between them, and several couches and bookcases throughout the room. They moved some of these in front of the doors to prevent unwelcome guests, and then Elizabeth took her knife and chopped up parts of the desk to make firewood. Matt took some kindling and matches from his backpack and lit a fire.

For the next half hour, they all sat around the room in an awkward silence. Misael was further away from them, sitting in a dark corner on his own. Matt wanted to say something, but he wasn't sure what.

"So… What was going on back there?" he asked.

Misael sighed, and Matt could tell by the sound of his voice that he didn't want to be there. "I was walking home from hunting, when I ran into the horde…" he said quietly. "Th-thanks for helping me out, by the way."

"You're welcome," said Matt. "Say… What were you doing all by yourself anyway?"

"Well…" said Misael. "I don't really have anyone to be with…"

"You mean… You're completely alone?"

"Yeah…"

"For how long?"

"Almost this whole time… I really don't want to talk about it though…"

"Okay… I understand," said Matt. "But I do want to make one thing clear to you. It's dangerous to be alone. You need to find a companion, and fast."

"Well… I don't know…" Misael countered. "I'm fine as I am right now."

"No, you're really not," said Matt. "You might feel that way, but you aren't. You're going to die out here if you're alone."

A dark look crossed Misael's face. "Maybe that's for the better…" he mumbled.

"Oh don't say that," said Matt. "There's always something to live for."

"Maybe," said Misael. "Maybe not."

"You never know that," said Matt. "I've been exactly where you are right now. And I'm still here."

"Yeah well… that's you," said Misael. And that was the end of it.

For a while longer, they sat in silence. Far below them, they could hear the echoes of zombies running and crashing throughout the building. The sounds sent chills down Matt's spine, even though he knew they were nowhere near them.

An idea began to form in his head. Misael seemed like a good person, and they could always use another gun. He looked over his shoulder, and saw that the teen was asleep.

He turned to Elizabeth.

"Hey," he whispered. "I've been thinking… I think we should take him with us."

Elizabeth looked at him in shock. She shook her head.

Matt understood her reluctance. The last time they had taken in someone they didn't know, it had been Lucas Corvus, who had turned out to be working for their enemies, the Phoenix Initiative. But Matt had a feeling that Misael was different. "I don't think he's like Lucas," said Matt. "I'm pretty sure he's just an innocent victim."

He eventually was able to persuade her. He got up and walked over to the sleeping teen and gently nudged him awake.

"Wha…?" he asked groggily.

"Hey," said Matt. "I've been thinking… And I think you should come with us. It's too dangerous to be out here on your own, and we know of a safe zone. We can take you there."

Misael looked at them incredulously. "What?" he asked. "N-no, I don't think I should… I don't want to trouble you…"

"No, don't worry, we're going there anyway," said Matt. "You don't even have to live with us there; it's a big safe zone. You can go wherever you want."

"No, no… Really… I'm fine here…"

"Listen," said Matt. "This is no time to try and be polite. If you stay here, you will die. But if you come with us-"

He was cut off by a noise coming from his backpack.

They listened in stunned silence, and they heard the muffled noise again. Matt walked over to his backpack, which he had left next to the fireplace, and rummaged through it, eventually finding the transceiver Samantha had created for them.

 _"_ _Chicago…"_

Matt stared at the transceiver, his paralysis only broken when Misael asked, "Who is that talking?"

Matt pressed a button on the transceiver, shutting it down. "A friend," he said. "Change of plans. It's not safe for you to come with us. You need to get yourself out of the city and stay there."

They spent the rest of the night taking separate watches. The next morning, they left the room and found a stairwell leading to the bottom floor. Most of the zombies from the night before had left; there were still a few wandering around, but they were easily disposed of.

When they exited the building, Matt said, "You take care of yourself, Misael. It was nice to meet you."

"Thanks… nice to meet you too," said Misael softly.

"Listen, if you ever want to find someplace safe, go to New Hampshire," said Matt. "It's a long journey, I know, but if you can make it there… There's not a zombie in sight. That's where I come from. That's where you should go."

"Okay," said Misael. "I'll keep that in mind." But in his eyes Matt saw nothing but disbelief.

"Goodbye," he said.

On their way back, they looked in various theaters and Hollywood buildings for the film reel Matt had been searching for. He was disappointed when he found nothing. "After all that… we didn't even find it," he said dejectedly.

As soon as they entered the house, Shade, who was laying on the floor in the living room, shot to his feet. He bounded over to them and gave Matt a big lick on the cheek.

Matt hugged the dragon. "I'm so sorry," he said. "We got trapped by zombies in a building and had to stay the night. I'm so sorry…"

He then proceeded to tell Shade everything that happened. When he got the part with the transceiver, the dragon's eyes widened in surprise.

"It was Samantha," said Matt. "She sounded like she was hurt. All she said was 'Chicago.' And then it ended."

Matt finished the story, and then he said, "I think it's time we left this city. It sounds like our friends need our help."

* * *

 **So there you go. The beginning.**

 **Let me know what you think!**


	3. Chapter Two: Half Blood

**Sorry for the late upload! It's final season and homework's been killing me. Anyway, here's the second chapter!**

* * *

 **Chapter Two:**

 **Half-Blood**

 **Manchester, New Hampshire**

Beneath the streets of Manchester, in an abandoned facility named Aperture Laboratories, Sam had taken up residence. Ever since his friends had left six months before, he had lived there with Ashmore, his Pokémon, and, at one point, Matt, Shade and Elizabeth.

Right now, he was performing a blood test.

He pulled up the sleeve of his black _How to Train Your Dragon_ t-shirt and slid a needle into his vein to collect some blood. When he was done, he removed the needle and poured the blood into a scanner connected to a computer in front of him. A pop-up appeared reading " _Analyzing blood sample… Please wait."_

He waited for a whole minute before the computer reacted. A warning noise beeped from the speakers, and the words changed to _Unable to read blood sample. Please try again._

"Damn it," said Sam. "Not again."

After they had moved into Aperture, Sam quickly assigned himself the task of figuring out why he and Matt were still alive. Blood samples proved that the dragon blood in their veins that had almost killed them had not gone away; in fact, it had remained in high concentration. Despite this, their bodies were functioning almost normally, and didn't seem to be reacting to it at all. Sam tried to figure out why, but couldn't. The only lead he had ever found was an article stored in a computer deep in the lab discussing blood testing in California. But when he had sent Matt, Shade and Elizabeth to investigate, they had never returned.

As time passed, the concentration of dragon blood in his veins only increased. Finally, after four months, it reached the fifty percent milestone and stopped. That's when the errors started, and while a look through a microscope revealed nothing out of the ordinary, Sam knew something was going on; he just couldn't figure out what.

Without any other leads, he had taken to investigating other mysteries. He eventually learned what had happened to Gigalith, one of his Pokémon creations that had gone rogue. After she was created, she had shown none of the same vital signs as the rest of the Pokémon. For this reason, he had assumed her to be dead. But she was alive, and after he had disposed of her, GLaDOS, the AI system that had once run the lab, came to her rescue. Since GLaDOS only really cared about science, she used the poor creature. She taught her how to survive, used her for as many scientific purposes as she could, and then kicked her out.

From there, Sam knew everything already. A combination of her unstable cells and the testing GLaDOS had put her through caused her to grow. Eventually, she took root underneath Boston, and eventually destroyed the city.

When he was finished with that, he had begun to take up his Pokémon-creating experiments again. While he hadn't yet created any new ones, he had some designs set aside. Namely; Noivern, Magnezone, and the most important; another Galvantula. He had created a Galvantula before, a female named Lily, but she had been killed in what he had taken to calling the Battle of Mount Washington six months before. Sam was determined to ensure the continuation of her species.

Back in the present, he removed the blood sample from the computer and shut it down. _Another failure,_ he thought. _How much longer before something happens? How much longer before I figure this out?_

He stood up to leave the room, brushing his long, curly hair back. But as he walked over to the door, a dull ache suddenly appeared in his head. _No…_ he thought. _No, not again!_

The ache grew worse, until it felt like something was drilling into his brain. He hurriedly dug his hand into his pocket and grabbed for the bottle of painkillers he carried around, only to double over at the feeling of having his skull split in half. He cried out in pain as his vision was pierced by black spots. The pain just grew worse and worse, like someone had stuck a sharp object into his cranium and was mashing up his brains.

His legs gave out beneath him, and he sprawled onto the floor. He could barely see anymore, and what he could see his mind couldn't register over the pain. He grabbed his head and yelled, and the blackness grew, before it finally overtook him.

He woke up in his bed.

Blinking, he sat up and looked around, confused, until the memory finally came back to him. A pang of anxiety stabbed his heart.

 _I've never passed out before…_

He was afraid of the implications this presented. What could be causing them? Was it a symptom of his blood problems? A brain tumor?

Sam was inclined to think the former, because whatever it was, Matt had it too. A month after the activation of the Machine, they fell prey to chronic headaches. At first, they had been bearable, but over time they became worse- and more frequent.

Slowly, Sam got out of the bed and left the room. He followed the hallways until he entered the Aperture lobby, which they had reformed into a living room. There, he found Reuniclus, Swampert and Ashmore were lounging around.

 _"_ _Hey,"_ Reuniclus greeted telepathically. _"What happened back there?"_

"I had another headache," said Sam. "Only this time I passed out."

 _"_ _Oh my God! Are you okay?"_

"For now, I think," said Sam. "Which one of you moved me?" He glanced at Ashmore hopefully.

"Swampert," Reuniclus replied.

Disappointment welled in Sam's heart. He had hoped that Ashmore had been the one… But it hadn't been. It never was.

Six months before, a certain series of decisions Sam had made had torn a hole in their friendship. They used to be the best of friends, but now the night fury merely tolerated him. Every day, Sam looked for a way to bridge the gap between them, but he never was able to find one.

"How long was I out?" he asked.

 _"_ _A couple hours,"_ Reuniclus replied.

That came as a shock to him. It would be almost dark out now! Suddenly, his stomach rumbled, and he realized how hungry he was. He pushed the negative emotions away and announced, "Well, I'm going to go get some food. See you later!"

He walked through the hallways to the lab's cafeteria, and opened the door to the kitchen. He turned on the oven and baked himself some buffalo chicken wings, and when they were done, he put them on a plate, poured a small puddle of blue cheese dressing next to them, and headed to the main entrance.

He passed through the lobby again, nodding to his friends, and opened the door to the elevator. As it closed behind him, he hit the button to ascend.

The elevator rose, and Sam took a bite out of one of his chicken wings. As the delicious flavors flooded over his tongue, the elevator came to a halt, and the door opened, revealing a long, dark staircase.

Sam stepped out of the elevator and the door closed. He walked forward and began to ascend the staircase one step at a time. When he reached the top, he emerged into an old, seemingly-abandoned shack through an open hole in its floor. He walked to the front door, opened it, and stepped outside.

His first thought was that the sun had already set. He took a deep breath of the fresh summer night air, and took another bite of chicken.

He had no gun on him. After a couple months of post-Machine living, he had found New Hampshire easy to declare a safe zone. He had not seen a single zombie in six months. The Machine had really done its job.

He stayed outside for a while, thinking. He thought about his research. He worried about Matt, Shade and Elizabeth. He thought about Ashmore, and how he missed his company. He thought about Lily, and how he still had a hard time accepting her death. Even now, six months after, he still felt from time to time as if she were still there, and that she hadn't really died, and that it had just been a bad dream. But reality would come crashing back to him eventually. Sometimes, he would have nightmares about it.

Not for the first time, he wept.

He wasn't the only one who was hit hard by her death. They all felt sad about it. Swampert especially. The water-type had been very close to her while she had been alive. He had been the one who told her everything would be okay, just before she had been shot at the hands of their enemy, the despicable Chris Maverick. Sam had despised the soldier before, but now, his loathing was as deep and dark as the Mariana Trench.

When he was done crying, he finished eating his chicken and sat staring at the deep blue sky. It was almost completely dark out. He stood there as the sky got darker and darker, doing nothing but thinking things over. He did that a lot nowadays. He frequently went into sad or angry moods and would shut himself off from the world.

After a long time of this, he heard a voice in his head. _"Sam?"_

He turned around and saw Reuniclus floating behind him. "Yeah?" he asked.

 _"_ _You should come inside. Something's happened,"_ said the floating blue creature.

Worry coursed through him. _Oh no…_ he thought. He rushed past her and ran down the stairs back into the elevator. He waited for Reuniclus to follow, and then pressed the button to descend.

"What's happened?" he demanded. "Is everyone okay?"

 _"_ _I'm not sure…"_ said Reuniclus. _"You'll have to see for yourself."_

The elevator reached the top level, and the doors opened. As Sam stepped out, he saw all of his friends gathered in the lobby. Before he could ask what was going on, a noise filled the room. It was drowned in static, but Sam could just barely recognize a voice.

 _"…_ _Chicago…"_

The noise was coming from a black radio device on a table in the center of the room. Sam immediately recognized it as the transceiver Samantha had made.

 _"…_ _Chicago…"_

This time, he recognized the voice as that of the girl herself. Her voice was lined with pain and exhaustion, but it was definitely her.

Ashmore leaned over and tapped the transceiver with a claw, hitting the power button and switching it off.

"I see why you called me," said Sam gravely.

Several minutes later, they were all sitting in a circle, Sam in a white, padded chair, the others either floating in the air or lying stretched out on the ground.

 _"_ _Ashmore says, whatever we do, we're not splitting up,"_ said Reuniclus. _"Last time we sent a group out there, they never came back. We're sticking together, no matter what. Swampert, Jack and I agree."_

"As do I," said Sam. "The question is, do we stay or go?"

Swampert made some grunting noises that Sam recognized as his version of speech. He couldn't understand the big purple Pokémon, but the others could. He waited for Reuniclus's translation.

 _"_ _Swampert says we should stay here,"_ she said. _"He doesn't think we should risk any more lives. We don't even know if Samantha's still alive; we don't' even know if_ any _of them are still alive. We may be the only ones left."_

Then, Ashmore interjected. With a series of croons and warbles, he conveyed his own opinion.

 _"_ _Ashmore says no. We should go find them. It's our duty to them as friends, and besides, maybe on the way we'll find out what happened to Matt, Shade and Elizabeth."_

Sam agreed with Ashmore.

Swampert replied again, and Reuniclus translated. _"He says that we don't even know where she is, or if she's anywhere near the others. They could be anywhere."_

"We have a lead, though," said Sam. "Chicago. That's where I'd start."

 _"_ _As good a place to start as any,"_ Reuniclus agreed. _"I say we have a vote. Who votes to stay?"_

Swampert raised a paw into the air.

 _"_ _Okay. Who votes to go?"_

Everyone else raised their respective appendages in the air.

 _"_ _Well, that's that then,"_ said Reuniclus. _"I say we leave tomorrow. Does anyone have any objections?"_

Swampert looked as if he wanted to say something, but then decided against it.

 _"_ _Good. We should probably get some sleep then. I know I am. Goodnight, guys."_


	4. Chapter Three: Internal Affairs

**Hey guys! I'm sorry for the delay- Christmas time was super busy. But here's the chapter, finally!**

* * *

 **Chapter Three:**

 **Internal Affairs**

 **Philadelphia, Pennsylvania**

Blood, sweat and fear. That's what made up the days in Philadelphia.

Andrew's squad, transferred from New York for a three month shift, was tasked with the mission of helping to reclaim the city in the name of the Phoenix Initiative. The going was slow; every time they made substantial progress, they had to stop and expand their wall to cover the captured area. And sometimes the zombies reclaimed their land. The undead were much stronger now than they had been sixth months before, and were now an even bigger threat.

Today was his last day on the job. Tonight, he and his squad would be shipped back to New York to be replaced by another. He couldn't wait to go back; he missed his friends. Every day he spent without them felt like a noose that was squeezing tighter and tighter around his neck.

But before he could return, he had to complete one last mission.

Another segment of the wall had just been built, and they now owned the entire eastern half of Philadelphia. They were being sent into the Upper North district to reclaim a block.

They stood at the edge of the reclaimed area, with nothing but a wall between them and the danger zone. They stood in formation, at the ready, awaiting leave to pass through the gate. The wall was large, stretching up three stories, but only about three feet wide. Architecturally, it was nothing special, as it was more of a wooden barricade than an actual wall. But what it lacked in architectural prowess it more than made up for with firepower. Guards were stationed all over the place, and were armed to the teeth with all sorts of weapons. No zombie was getting past them if they could help it.

Suddenly, the thick wooden gate began to crank open. As the doors swung apart, Andrew caught a glimpse of the street beyond. There were no zombies in sight, at least not yet. That wasn't a surprise; the guards posted on the wall liked to use them for target practice. Their increased speed and intelligence provided for more advanced training than before.

"Alright soldiers!" the captain, a man by the name of Sully, shouted. "Move out!"

The forty of them assigned to the patrol broke their stance and walked out into the ruined city. They split up into three groups; fifteen of them turned left from the entrance, fifteen turned right, and ten moved forward. Andrew was one of the ten.

The first part of their job was easy. The area they were clearing out, which was a span of sixteen buildings arranged in a block pattern, had relatively few zombies roaming around outside. There were a few in the alleyways the guards couldn't see into, but that was it.

Andrew walked with his patrol and shot at the zombies. Over the past few months, he had become an excellent marksmen; he had received professional training instead of just figuring it out for himself like he had before.

Finally, when the blocks were cleared off, Captain Sully called them all to meet in the center.

"Alright!" he yelled. "You know the drill! Sixteen buildings! We need to take them!" He divided the fifty of them into four groups and sent them into the buildings. Andrew was sent to the closest one; a five story apartment building.

His squad of thirteen soldiers arrived at the door, and their leader kicked it down. They immediately fired upon a group of zombies hiding in the parlor. They were mowed down before they could even react.

They paused to reload, during which time they heard footsteps thundering down the nearest hallway. Three hideous, snarling zombies ran into the open, and the soldiers fired on them as well.

"Move!" their leader yelled. "Split up! Clear out this floor, and meet at the base of the stairs!

Andrew and two others broke off from the group and made their way down the hallway. There were several offices on either side of him, and he kicked down the doors and sprayed his bullets whenever he saw zombies.

When the first floor was cleared, they met at the staircase that led to the next. For the four remaining levels of the building, they repeated the process of splitting up into groups, kicking down doors, and eliminating the zombies. It all went well until the final floor.

Andrew had just finished off another room when he heard a scream nearby. Abandoning his mission, he rushed to find the source of the scream, and saw one of his fellow soldiers, a woman, Private Turner, lying on the ground. Her helmet had been torn off and her neck was spewing blood. Next to her, a zombie lay dead on the ground.

"Help… me," she choked.

"I… I'm sorry," said Andrew. He raised his gun and aimed at her head. He hesitated for just a moment, until he saw her nod weakly in approval.

Ignoring the fear in her eyes, he pulled the trigger.

Behind him, another soldier entered the room. "What happened?" he demanded.

"She was bit," Andrew replied. "There was nothing I could do."

The soldier turned and smashed his fist into the wall. "Damn it!" he yelled.

Andrew called it in. He pulled out his radio and contacted the wall to notify the soldiers there that they had suffered a casualty. Fifteen minutes later, a body collection team arrived to take away the corpse.

Death was common in this line of work. Despite their protective armor, the zombies were still hitting them hard. The undead were now much better at hiding, and mostly attacked in groups unless they had to individually. Worst of all, they had figured out how to remove helmets. If a zombie got your helmet, and you didn't have any back-up, you were as good as dead.

They continued with their work as if the incident hadn't occurred. When they had finished clearing the building, they moved on to another, and then another, until finally all sixteen were cleared out.

The entire division met back in the center of the block. Then, for the next hour, they collected pieces of furniture and built a barricade surrounding the area.

After that, Andrew was assigned guard duty.

His assigned portion of the barricade looked along the wall, and since there were no zombies this close, his job was very uneventful. For almost an hour he just sat there, patiently waiting to be relieved. He wanted nothing more than to be alone, but with the other guards in view, he couldn't be.

Finally, he got his wish. Another soldier arrived and dismissed him from his duties.

As he walked through the newly-captured portion of the city, he passed by another soldier from his squad. "Hey," the soldier greeted. "We're to report to the General immediately. She wants to debrief us before we're sent home."

"Alright," said Andrew. He sighed internally; he just wanted to be alone. He had had a very stressful day, and was struggling to keep it together in front of everyone was just too much for him to bear. Still, he had to hold it in for a little bit longer.

He walked back to the wall, eventually meeting up with other soldiers from their squad along the way. When they finally reached the gate, they were greeted by another group wearing HAZMAT suits.

"Do we really have to go through this today?" asked Andrew.

"Sorry," one of them said. "Standard procedure."

One by one, they took each soldier in Andrew's squad off to the side. There they were forced to strip naked while one of the guns in the HAZMAT suits examined them for bites. When they were cleared, they were sent back into formation in a separate group from those that hadn't yet been examined.

There were six of them, and the first four go through without incident. Then, the fifth one stepped up. When he stripped naked, a small yet recognizably humanoid bite mark could be seen on his neck.

"We've got a bite!" the soldier examining him yelled.

"No!" the panicking soldier yelled. "Please, it's not what it looks like!"

"I'm sorry," said the soldier in the HAZMAT suit. "But you know we can't take that risk." Just like that, he pulled out his gun and shot the man in the skull.

Andrew wanted to vomit.

Sometime later, the entire rest of his squad was gathered in front of the general. General McKyer was a tall, muscular women with light brown skin and long, flowing dark hair. Her dark eyes looked over the soldiers in front of her, as if analyzing every one of them.

"You've done well," she complimented. "All of you. But now, your time here is up. You're to go back to New York, where you'll stay until your next shift here, if you get such a thing. Feel free to talk about your work here to others in the city, but if one word of our endeavors leaves the company of this army, you _will_ be executed."

She paused for a moment and allowed them to take that information in. Then, she said, "Be at the station in an hour. You're dismissed."

An hour later, Andrew was packed and ready to go. He didn't have many possessions with him; just the bare necessities; clothes and weapons.

He took his things and left, heading straight towards the station. An armored truck was waiting for them there. Andrew boarded the truck and took a seat all the way in the back right corner, putting his belongings on his lap. All twelve of his squadmates boarded behind him. Once they were all ready, the convoy set off.

About an hour later, they reached the Pennsylvania Wall. As Andrew stepped out of the truck, he marveled at how similar it was to New Hampshire's wall. A helicopter was stationed there, and over the course of three trips they were airlifted over the wall, where they were met with another armored car. They boarded it and set off again.

Another hour later, they arrived in New York City. Andrew, who had since fallen asleep, woke up to the sound of his fellow soldiers exiting the vehicle. He quickly got up, grabbed his things and followed them.

They were in a parking garage on the edge of the city. Andrew blinked the sleep from his eyes, grabbed his backpack, and jumped out of the back.

When everyone was out, the truck drove away to find its parking spot and they were sent through the various arrival procedures of full-body examination and decontamination. Finally, when it was all done, he was able to go.

As he walked through the streets towards the abandoned building that he often took refuge in, he saw them. "Hey, Andrew!" Nick yelled from across the street. "You're back!"

Him, Kody and Evan ran over to him and greeted him ecstatically. They were dressed in almost full body armor, with only a lack of helmets. They all looked different than they had six months before; Nick had shaved his head, Kody had grown his black hair out, and Evan… Well, Evan hadn't done anything actually.

"Hey guys," he said dully. "How are you?"

"Alright," said Kody. "How about you? How was Philadelphia?"

"Hell," said Andrew. "People were dying every day. The zombies are absolutely viscous there. I'm lucky I'm even alive."

"Hey, I'm alive too!" Evan exclaimed.

"Shut up, Evan," said Nick.

"Anyway," said Kody. "You need to come with us. Something's come up. It happened just a few minutes before you got here, actually. Come on."

"Where's Alex?" asked Andrew.

"He's back at the house," Nick replied. "Waiting for us."

When they reached the house, Alex opened the door to meet them. Andrew almost didn't recognize him; even though it had been five months since he had changed his appearance, it was still hard to get used to. He had grown his hair out long, and had died it completely black. In addition to this, he had grown facial hair. The entire endeavor was an attempt to hide his true identity; in fact, that was why they had all changed their looks. Andrew himself had shaved his head and ditched his glasses.

Before he had joined the group, Alex had been involved with a gang of outlaws who had eventually joined the Phoenix organization. That group was stationed elsewhere in the country- nobody seemed sure where- but Alex changed his appearance just to be safe. If they found out who he was, it would be the death of them all.

"Andrew!" he exclaimed. He walked forward and spread his arms. The two of them embraced. "How have you been?"

"Terrible," said Andrew. "I spent the last three months in fear of discovery. I almost wasn't able to bear it."

"I know what you mean," said Nick. "But at least you're back now."

"I just can't wait to be done here, so we can go back to New Hampshire," said Andrew. "So, what did you want to show me?"

Alex's face grew serious. "Come in," he said.

The five of them entered the building. It was an old, ruined house that nobody ever used. The army had no real use for it, so the five teens used it as a base of operations.

As they walked down the entrance hallway towards the living room, Andrew began to hear the sound of a small, distorted voice. When they finally reached the kitchen, he saw where it was coming from; a small, black transmitter with a long antenna. It was set on a table in between the two couches in the middle of the room.

As he listened to the voice, he recognized it as that of Samantha White herself. She sounded hurt and exhausted. All she was able to make out was one word:

"…Chicago…"

After a few moments of silence, the message repeated itself. Then, before it could do so again, Kody switched it off.

"Well then," said Andrew. "That was unexpected."

"Yeah," said Nick. "We're just lucky we were here when it happened."

"When what happened?" asked Evan, whom nobody answered

"Anyway, I think we need to decide on what to do next," said Kody.

"What do you mean?" asked Andrew.

"We're having a debate on whether or not we should leave to help her, or stay here and continue the mission."

"My vote is on leaving," said Andrew. His heart filled with hope at the thought of it. "I'm done with this place. Let's get out of here now."

"I agree with Andrew," said Kody. "Although I think it'll take more planning than that, I think we should leave. If there was any more information to find we'd have found it by now."

"There is more information though," said Alex. "We know Phoenix is up to something. They have secretive operations all over the country that we almost never even hear mention of, and they wouldn't bother with Philadelphia if they were done with their schemes. We need to figure out what's going on here."

"Honestly, I'm going to have to agree with Alex," said Nick.

"Let's call a vote," said Kody. "Two on two. Evan, what do you think?"

"Ummmm…" said Evan. He seemed to be deep in thought. "I… Can you repeat the question?"

Nick sighed. "Do you want to leave this city or stay and continue the mission?"

"Ummm… Stay. I think. Is that an option?"

Kody sighed, and Nick said, "Yes. Are you sure?"

"Yeah."

"Well, there we have it," said Alex. "We're staying."

An overwhelming sense of helplessness filled Andrew. He felt as if he was looking into a bottomless pit; one that he was about to fall into. At that moment, he felt like he would never escape this godforsaken city.

"I'm going to use my room for a minute," he said.

"Alright," said Nick. "Have fun."

He turned and left the room, heading straight for the staircase. As he ascended, the emotions he had repressed throughout the past three months all came to the surface. Grief over those who had died. Horror towards the terrible violence he had seen. Trauma. Anger. Depression. And now, hopelessness.

He reached the top of the stairs and stepped into a dark hallway. The first door on the right was his room, and he turned the knob and opened the door. Inside was a chair and a guitar. He sat down in the chair, picked up the guitar, brushed off three months' worth of dust, and strummed a note.

The guitar was hideously out of tune.

He thought of the vacant expression Private Turner as she died. A tear formed in his eye and slid down his face.


	5. Chapter Four: Choices

**Oh God. I am so, so sorry.**

 **I know I took _forever_ to upload this one, and I know it's _way_ too short to justify that. But the last few weeks have been _so_ busy and stressful that I _completely_ forgot about this.**

 **I'm going to try and continue on a schedule of Sundays, but if I don't... Forgive me. But I just don't have time.**

 **Anyway, I'm sorry again, and enjoy this chapter at long last.**

* * *

 **Chapter Four:**

 **Choices**

 **Somewhere outside Lincoln, Nebraska**

Hunger. All-consuming hunger was what she felt.

 _Wait a minute… That's not mine!_

A moan filled the blackness in her head, and with that Samantha's eyes shot open. Leaning over her was a zombie, mouth open, ready to feast.

Without a moment's hesitation, her hands curled around the hilt of her knife, yanked it out of its sheath, and drove it into the zombie's eye. The monster fell onto her, knocking the wind out of her body.

She heard more moans from off to the side and saw three more zombies walking quickly towards her. She pushed the corpse off of her chest and crawled backwards until she bumped into another body. Looking back, she saw that it was her friend Alena. Quickly, she grabbed the other girl's gun and fired on the zombies. They all fell down.

"Wha…?" said a voice from behind her. Alena was waking up. She weakly sat up and turned to her friend, who approached her and held out her hand.

"Hey," she said. "You alright?"

Alena nodded weakly and grabbed her hand. "Yeah," she said. "My head hurts like hell. But other than that, I'm fine."

Samantha's head hurt too, but it didn't bother her as much. She had been having severe headaches on and off over the course of the past few months, and had learned to get used to them.

"We need to get going," she said to Alena. "I shot a few bullets; they'll be coming soon. Come on, get up."

Alena stood up and took a step forward, only to stumble and fall. Samantha caught and steadied her before letting go again. This time, she was able to hold her own weight.

"Let me just get my gun," said Samantha.

She looked over at the house and gasped at the damage. Only the walls of the first floor were left intact, and even those were jagged and charred. The house was filled with and surrounded by rubble.

She ran through the shell of the doorway and looked around. Next to her, covered in soot but otherwise undamaged, was her sound gun. In the six months since her original model had been destroyed, she had carefully constructed another one to take its place. The new one worked just as well as the previous, if not better.

She turned towards a pile of rubble and fired at it to make sure it wasn't broken. The rubble leapt backwards off of the ground and flew at breathtaking speeds to collide with the collapsed wall on the other side of the ruined house.

Samantha grinned, then turned back to walk outside. "Come on," she said. "There are bound to be more on their way. Let's get out of here." They turned away and left the house behind.

As they walked, the morning sun glared about them, making their headaches worse. Samantha longed for the shade of a forest, but there were none to be found around here.

Suddenly, Alena stopped. "Where are we even going?" she asked.

"I don't know," said Samantha. "Somewhere other than here."

"We need to go after them, Samantha," said Alena. "Those Phoenix bastards took them!"

"I know," said Samantha. "But we need to find somewhere safe first. We can't do anything when we're exhausted like this."

They continued at a slow pace, exhausted from their efforts the previous night. Finally, they came accross an empty neighborhood.

"Let's try this house," said Alena, pointing to a blue, single story building directly in front of them. The house was surrounded by a white fence with a wooden, faded red mailbox in front. They walked onto the short driveway and up the sidewalk to the front door, which was painted white.

Samantha was first. She held her sonic gun at the ready, grabbed the doorknob, and opened it. Inside was a living room with a dusty tan couch facing a wall with a fireplace on the bottom and a flatscreen TV on top. Two other doors led off from the living room, and two windows sat on either side, set in the middle of the white walls.

There were no zombies to be seen.

"Come on," Samantha whispered. "This room is clear."

The girls entered the house and slowly made their way around. It was empty. They found a kitchen, a bathroom, and two bedrooms, with a closet in each one. Breaking apart some wooden chairs they found in the kitchen, they boarded up the windows.

When they were done, they sat down in the living room, allowing their weary bodies to rest momentarily.

"We should get something to eat," said Samantha. She was ravenous.

"Not until we decide on what we're going to do," said Alena. "We need to go after them."

"Well, you see… I'm not so sure that's a great idea," said Samantha.

"What are you talking about?" Alena demanded.

"Well, last night… I set off the transmitter," Samantha replied. "Everyone else knows we're in trouble now, and they'll probably be coming. I told them to go to Chicago, and that's where they'll be looking for us. We can't just leave them. I want to go after them too, but I honestly think this is more important. Besides, they might not be in as much danger as you think."

"What do you mean?" asked Alena. "They've been kidnapped by Phoenix! How are they _not_ in danger?"

"If they had wanted to kill them, I think they would have killed them already," Samantha explained. "Besides, they've got Gengar with them; I don't think they'll go out without one serious fight. You've seen what that ghost can do."

"Are you seriously saying this right now?" Alena demanded. "Ben, Joey and Gengar- our friends- are imprisoned; they could be being tortured right now- but you're sitting here saying we should just abandon them? Who are you, and what have you done with my friend?"

She stood up angrily and turned to walk away. "Wait," said Samantha. She stood up and stepped forward. "Do you really think this is easy for me to say?" she asked. "Do you think I'm happy to leave them there? I'm not! But the lead in Chicago we found… This is big. Possibly bigger than anything else anyone has found. You pretty much _tortured_ someone for that information, and I know how much that tore you up. Do you really want it to have been for nothing?"

Alena tensed, and Samantha could tell she had hit a nerve. She continued.

"They'll be safe from death, at least for a bit. I know that. It's one of those feelings I've been having. Those have proven to be trustworthy before, right? Trust it this time.

"Now, I set off the transmitter, remember? Someone's bound to have heard it. They'll be coming, and when they get here, we can send one of them after Phoenix. What do you say?"

Alena stayed still for a bit, and then turned to face her. "No," she said. "No, I'm not just going to stay here. I'm going to get them, whether you're coming or not."

She picked up her gun and marched towards the front door. "Wait," Samantha said. "Don't do this, please. You'll never make it on your own."

Alena looked back. "I'm sorry," she said. Then she left.

As Alena walked down the street, she took one last look at the house behind her before she continued on her way.

She walked and walked, growing more and more fatigued but not caring. But the more she walked, the more she realized she had no idea where she was going. Doubt invaded her mind. Was Samantha right?

 _No,_ she thought. _I can't think like that. I already made my decision._

For the rest of the day she walked, trying to find her way back to the house they had come from. But she was unable to, and by the time night fell over the land, she was completely lost.

"Damn it…" she muttered to herself. She was almost certain now that she had made a mistake.

The one thing she knew for sure was that she couldn't stay outside at night. She had to find shelter, and fast.

Across the street from her was an abandoned house. She hastily crossed the road and darted into the house's front lawn. Looking left and right, she made sure it was empty before sprinting to the front door.

It was locked.

She reached into her pocket and pulled out a pin that she kept on her person at all times for such occasions. Inserting the pin into the key hole, she wriggled it around until the lock was successfully picked, and then let herself in.

The house looked abandoned, but she couldn't be sure. With her weapon drawn, she checked the entire bottom floor, which consisted of a kitchen, a living room, a bathroom, and an office. When she was certain there were no zombies, she climbed the staircase.

At the top, there was a hallway with two doors on either side. She took a step forward, and suddenly the first door to her left sprung open. A snarling zombie lunged at her, taking her by surprise and knocking her back. The pistol slipped from her hand and she yelled in fright.

The zombie lunged at her and grabbed her by the shirt, and Alena managed to push back at it to keep its head away. It clawed at her arms, leaving red streaks down their lengths. Her blood ran, slickening their bodies and making it harder for her to fight. It dripped onto her face and into her eyes, obstructing her view.

Oh no, not like this, she pleaded in her mind. Anything but a death like this.

Suddenly, the zombie was ripped off of her and thrown down the hallway. Not wasting another moment, Alena reached for her gun and grabbed it, shooting the zombie just as it was regaining its footing. She emptied the entire clip into its body before she finally relented.

Shaking, she dropped the gun and looked behind her. Standing there was Samantha. "Well not to say I told you so," her friend said. "But you should have stayed with me."

Alena sighed, and stood up. "Thanks," she said. "I thought I was a goner just then… How'd you find me?"

"I followed you this entire time," she said. "I knew that something like this was going to happen, so I wanted to be there to help you. Come on, you didn't really think I'd let you go off on your own, did you?"

"I didn't know…" said Alena. "Now that I think about it, I guess not…"

Samantha took off her pack and unzipped it. Reaching in, she rummaged around before producing a first aid kit. She handed it to Alena and said, "Here, take this and clean up. I'll finish scouting out the rest of the house and then get to boarding it up."

Alena went into the bedroom the zombie had been hiding in, and after making sure she was alone, she patched up her arm and wiped off the blood. Then, she left the room and went to find Samantha.

The other girl was in the living room boarding up some windows with a table from the kitchen that she had chopped up. "Ah, you're here," she said. "Help me."

"What'd you do with the zombie?" asked Alena.

"I pushed it out the window," Samantha replied. "Along with another I found up there."

The two of them boarded up the entire house before they finally were able to rest. "You can go to sleep first if you want," said Samantha. "I'll keep watch."

"No, it's fine," said Alena. "You go first."

"No, I'm not wounded," said Samantha. "And I insist."

"Oh… fine," said Alena. She took a blanket out of her pack and laid on the couch, draping it over herself. Right before she closed her eyes, she hesitated.

"Samantha?" she asked.

"Yeah?"

"I've been thinking… As much as I hate to admit this… I think you're right. If what we think we know about Chicago is true, we need to go there and find out what's going on."

"I'm glad to hear that," said Samantha. Alena detected a hint of sorrow in her voice. "I'm really sorry we had to do this. I'm just as worried as you are, and I hope to God that they're okay."

"Yeah," said Alena. "I do too."


	6. Author's Note

Okay. I know it's been forever. I'm really sorry about that. I've been so damn busy and I just haven't had any time.

I'm not sure I'm going to continue this story to be honest. I'm just not in the mindset anymore. I feel like the time for it has passed, and I can't force myself to finish it or I'll be unhappy and the story won't be good.

I haven't decided for sure yet, I might still work on it. I'll probably upload at least a few more chapters, and it'll be a few weeks before I really make the decision.

When I do, I'll let you know.

Again, I'm really sorry.


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